Chiheb had to piss.
I could see him squirming in his seat as I drove east back to Montreal. We had spent the last two hours drinking tea and talking with Jaser at Denison Park next to the Humber River.
After our walk the night before, I’d agreed to meet with him before our drive home. Jaser’s Imam Complex was in full swing. He agreed to the train plot, but he was more focused on his own sniper attack. It turned out Chiheb was annoyed by Jaser’s rants. The train plot was sent from the brothers overseas. It was the priority, but every time it came up Jaser changed the subject. Jaser didn’t want to take orders from overseas, from brothers hiding in caves who had no idea about Canada.
He became emotional at one point and shed a tear.
“Islam is a very powerful weapon, okay, and if it’s in the right hands, you can bulldoze the whole world,” he said. “And the beauty of Islam is that even the ruler or the president or the Caliph who is ruling himself, he submitted to the law of Allah.”
It was the first time I saw the cracks in their relationship.
After the meeting, Chiheb and I drove back to Montreal. There were no bathrooms at the park, and we both climbed into the car with full bladders. I watched Chiheb fidget in his seat.
“Come on, we’re gonna piss our pants,” I said, laughing.
“My Lord,” Chiheb said, a look of anguish on his face. “Allah, may Allah relieve me and relieve you. We should look for a washroom.”
I searched my GPS for the closest gas station. It was uncomfortable for me. For Chiheb, it was a full-on crisis. One drop of urine on his skin or clothes and he’d be unclean. Making wudu wasn’t enough. One drop of urine would send him careening off the path of Allah.
“Yeah,” I said. “The first washroom I see. We’ll stop, Allah willing, even a restaurant or whatever.”
The closest one was a couple of miles off the highway. We both leapt out of the car. It took me a few minutes to go and wash up. Chiheb went in at the same time and didn’t come out for forty-five minutes. He would urinate and then painstakingly make sure he didn’t get any urine on himself. By the time he was done he sometimes had to urinate again. He was an extremist in every sense of the word. I sat in the car and waited. Thirty minutes was common, but this was a longer trip than usual. He looked distraught when he got back to the car.
“Tamer, I think I got some urine on my clothing,” Chiheb said. “I had to go so bad that I barely made it.”
“No worries,” I said. “We’ll figure it out.”
I had to solve this or all conversation was done. He was already distraught and it would only get worse as we got closer to prayer. I got my phone and found a Gap a few miles away.
“We shouldn’t waste money,” Chiheb said when I told him where we were going.
“Don’t worry,” I said, putting the car in gear. “It’s tax deductible.”
Chiheb exhaled. He seemed relieved.
“God bless you, brother.”
Chiheb picked out a pair of boxers, jeans, and a button-down shirt from the Gap. I paid and we went over to a nearby Marriott hotel. He went into the lobby bathroom to clean up. The Gap gave him an extra bag, so his urine-stained clothes wouldn’t touch anything.
I walked over to the front desk.
“My friend and I would like to pray,” I said. “Is there a place that is quiet that we could use so we don’t have to pray outside?”
“Of course,” the clerk said.
A few minutes later, I had the key to a banquet room. Chiheb came out an hour later wearing a smile and his new Gap clothes. Suburban dad with a jihadi beard.
“Brother, we have a place to pray,” I said.
—
Once we got back to the car, my mind was stuck on my new mission: to find the American sleeper. The Canadian case, for all intents and purposes, was done. We had all the elements of a conspiracy. It would be nice to have one more overt act, like scouting the location or buying equipment, but it wasn’t necessary.
I had everything I needed to convict Chiheb, but I wanted to give him the “Christian burial” speech. I was inspired by Brewer v. Williams, a 1977 United States Supreme Court case dealing with waiving the Sixth Amendment’s right to counsel.
Robert Williams, who escaped from a mental hospital, kidnapped ten-year-old Pamela Powers on December 24, 1968, at the YMCA in Des Moines, Iowa. She was watching her brother in a wrestling tournament and left to use the bathroom. A fourteen-year-old boy saw Williams carrying something wrapped in a blanket through the lobby. He saw Powers’s legs when Williams put her in the car. A warrant was issued and two days later Williams surrendered.
The Des Moines police drove 160 miles to Davenport to pick him up with a promise not to interrogate him without his lawyer present. Detectives knew Williams was deeply religious. Once they reached the highway heading back to Des Moines, the detective gave Williams what would later be called the “Christian burial speech.”
I want to give you something to think about while we’re traveling down the road. . . . Number one, I want you to observe the weather conditions, it’s raining, it’s sleeting, it’s freezing, driving is very treacherous, visibility is poor, it’s going to be dark early this evening. They are predicting several inches of snow for tonight, and I feel that you yourself are the only person that knows where this little girl’s body is, that you yourself have only been there once, and if you get a snow on top of it [sic] you yourself may be unable to find it. And, since we will be going right past the area on the way into Des Moines, I feel that we could stop and locate the body, that the parents of this little girl should be entitled to a Christian burial for the little girl who was snatched away from them on Christmas Eve and murdered. And I feel we should stop and locate it on the way in rather than waiting until morning and trying to come back out after a snowstorm and possibly not being able to find it at all. . . . I do not want you to answer me. I don’t want to discuss it any further. Just think about it as we’re riding down the road.
Williams took the police to Powers’s body on the way back.
My version of the speech was different. Basically, if Chiheb didn’t waver and back out, then there was no defense for his actions. I didn’t entrap him. He was plotting to murder hundreds of innocent people. I used this technique as a final nail in the coffin. I was looking to bury him using his own words.
“Okay, so look, thank God, you are a religious man and are more learned about our religion than the majority of Muslims I know,” I said, starting the speech. “But I need to ask you something. I don’t want you to think that I’m wavering here. I’m thinking ahead a bit. When the news breaks about what we’ve done, we will see that there were women and children who died. Are you sure this is considered halal? Is this what Allah wants?”
Chiheb turned in his seat to face me. This was serious. He started in English to make sure I understood. He had three proofs that condoned the attack.
“God almighty, He gave us the permission to eat dead animals, and to drink alcohol if you are close to death,” Chiheb said. “But when you eat the dead meat or you drink the alcohol, you should do just what you need to survive; not more than that. That means don’t fill your stomach. You just eat enough to keep you alive. Right?”
“Of course,” I agreed.
His voice was measured and serious. Chiheb wasn’t scolding me for doubting, but he wanted to crush any doubts.
“So what does this mean?” Chiheb said, settling into his lesson. “This means that you are allowed to do something haram if there is a necessity behind that haram. And when you do that haram, there are two conditions. You should not do this as you like to do. That means that when I do that haram, inside myself, I should have the feeling of not loving what I am doing. This is the first condition. Second, I should not exceed the necessity. Now please, brother, follow me on this point. If God almighty allows us to do that haram to save your life, what about saving your religion?”
Chiheb slapped his thigh and startled me.
“The necessity of saving religion is much higher than the necessity of saving your life. But God almighty, He allows you to do this haram for a lower level, which is the necessity to save your life. So what about the necessity to save the religion? So of course, you are more permissible to do that haram. This is one point.”
For a second, I thought Chiheb might be turning. He admitted killing innocents was haram and that he shouldn’t and couldn’t like it, but he justified it.
“The second point, you know very well that all the civilian people who are living here, they are paying taxes. But also you know that those nonbelievers, they are attacking and killing our women and our children in our land. God almighty, He said that you should make aggression as they aggress you. You know aggression?”
“Do unto them as they’ve done to you,” I said.
“So if they are killing our women and our children in our country, why don’t we kill their women and their children in their country? And God almighty told us in the Quran to do to them as they are doing to you. So, this is the second proof. The first, you get the first, right?”
“The first one, yes,” I said. “Of course.”
“The necessity of . . .”
“Saving Islam,” I said.
Saving Islam from him, was what I really meant. My job was to keep him talking. But in my mind I was arguing. This was not the religion my mother and father taught me. Islam wasn’t a religion of violence and revenge. The Quran says he who slays a soul on earth shall be as if he had slain all of mankind, and he who saves a life shall be as if he had given life to all mankind.
“Saving religion, the necessity of saving religion is higher than the necessity of saving a life,” he said. “But God, He allows you to do some haram. You understand?”
He was making sure I understood every point. This was jihad 101 and he wasn’t sure why I needed to be told why our actions were justified.
“The second is that they are killing the women and children in our land. So why we don’t do as they are doing? Now the third point, it’s not from religion but it’s a practical justification.”
This I have to hear, I thought.
“You know very well that the nonbeliever is controlling our land. He’s colonizing our land. Tens of years, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Long time.”
“One hundred, maybe more,” Chiheb said.
I agreed in hopes he’d get to the point.
“Okay, so are we able to kick out the nonbeliever from our land with military organization? With a military army? Are you following? Do you get my question?”
“Meaning they have a big army,” I said.
No Muslim army could kick the Western militaries out of the Middle East, Chiheb said. The brothers lack resources, technology, and equipment to resist. And when a Muslim nation does gain strength, the West destroys it.
“Look at Iran: Israel is preparing herself to send planes to destroy the nuclear factory,” Chiheb said. “So this means that the nonbeliever is not allowing us to use technology. We are not able to kick out the army by fighting army between army. So, in that case, we are in the obligation to use other ways. Are you following me?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “We have to fight the only way we can.”
“The only way we can for the purpose to remove them, even when you find yourself obliged to do something haram,” Chiheb said. “Are you following me?”
I felt his eyes on me.
“One hundred percent,” I said.
“Are you following me?” he repeated.
This was the last time he wanted to talk about justifying the attacks.
“Amazing words,” I said. “It’s never gonna be an issue again. You explained it brilliantly. You said it perfectly. You are right on.”
“So the first and the second, they are religious, the third is practical. You understand?”
“Of course,” I said. “I’m thinking about the media and what is going to be said about us and everything else. They are going to call us terrorists and they will call us all kinds of bad things. They’re gonna show pictures of the women and the babies that died, but they’ll never show the pictures of the women and the children that are dying every day back home.”
But what I was saying wasn’t Islam, and I knew it. The Quran was very clear on the laws of war. A Muslim could only fight against other combatants. The Prophet Mohammed had clear rules. He instructed his soldiers it was forbidden to kill “any child, any woman, or any elder or sick person.” Mutilation, scorched earth tactics, and destroying crops and villages were forbidden. The Prophet said nothing about terrorism, because there was only one way to wage war as a Muslim.
There was no question Chiheb wanted to commit an act of terrorism. He was convicted by his own words. My questions must have concerned Chiheb. A little while later, after we’d stopped talking about his proofs, he quizzed me.
“So, can you repeat the three points?”
“I will repeat them right now. Is this my test?”
Chiheb giggled.
“Because you failed your test when I asked you how many brothers you have, but I’m gonna pass my test.”
Chiheb had three brothers. When I asked him about his family, he didn’t include me as one of his brothers. I never let him forget.
“First proof, God almighty, He allows us in times of need, if we are this close to death, we’re allowed to eat a dead animal or drink alcohol, just enough to save our lives. And to do that haram to save our life. Now imagine what God is going to allow in order for us to save our religion. Right?”
Chiheb smiled like a teacher happy with his pupil.
“Number two. Look at what they’re doing to our women and children. For dozens of years, and years and years, they are killing our women and children nonstop. Right? So they’re killing our women and children, we’re gonna kill their women and children. That’s the second proof. And the third, which is what we just discussed . . .”
“Which is not religious, it’s practical,” Chiheb said.
“It’s practical,” I said. “They have occupied our land.”
“And our brothers, they can’t succeed right now,” Chiheb said.
“They’re winning some battles but they’re losing some battles and they’re not succeeding, but the point is, they are over there occupying our land. And they are a big military. For example, let’s use Israel and the United States. Both of them have huge military armies. We can’t get a military army to take our land back, so we have to use any means necessary, any means necessary to fight that evil. And the only way we can is this way.”
I was getting into the act now.
“We’re gonna have more success doing it this way,” I said.
“Yeah,” Chiheb said. “But don’t forget that the nonbeliever, when he is in our land, he’s taking more security procedures than he is in his land.”
“Exactly,” I said. “Because he feels comfortable here.”
“They are ready for them over there,” he said. “But here they are not ready for us.”
“Can I ask you a question now?” I said.
“Yes,” Chiheb said.
“How did I do on the test?”
“One point for you and zero points for me.”
“I did well?”
“You are a good player.”
“But you’re a good teacher.”
And convicted, I thought.